pointed doggrel to which the contentions of the period gave rise. But the most extraordinary work that sprang out of the state of society after the Restoration was BUTLER'S Hudibras, a poem which, even now when the race of characters it celebrates, and the feelings it embodies have passed away, is still popular from the pungency of its wit, the remarkable fluency of its verse, and cleverness of its rhymes; while to those who are well acquainted with the opinions and habits of the great parties which existed after the return of the Stuarts, it derives new charms from the merit of its caricature, sketched in the spirit of Cervantes and with much of his skill.

I have not time to enter at length into the adventures of Sir Hudibras, his equipment, his exploits and his arguments, his encounters in the field, his imprisonment and release by the widow who restored his person to liberty but took his affections captive; his interview with the magician Sidrophel, his unrequited passion and sad mischances, his letter to the widow, or the answer he received; these form the framework of the poem which supports a continued and biting satire on the thoughts, principles, and actions of the Puritans—a party exposed by their rigid notions and uncompromising habits to that ridicule which lays hold on the outward peculiarities of men, and by a slight overcoloring places them in a most ludicrous light. The style is so diffuse that it is difficult to select an extract of moderate length, which is intelligible when separated from the context, but here is Ralpho's story of the Cobbler who killed the Indian:

Justice gives sentence many times
On one man for another's crimes,
Our brethren of New England use
Choice malefactors to excuse,

And hang the guiltless in their stead,
Of whom the churches have less need;
As lately 't happened: In a town
There liv'd a cobbler, and but one,

That out of doctrine could cut use,

And mend men's lives, as well as shoes.
This precious brother having slain,

In times of peace, an Indian,

Not out of malice, but mere zeal,
(Because he was an Infidel)
The mighty Tottipottymoy

Sent to our elders an envoy,
Complaining sorely of the breach

Of league, held forth by Brother Patch,
Against the articles in force

Between both churches, his and ours,

For which he crav'd the saints to render
Into his hands, or hang th'offender;

But they maturely having weigh'd

They had no more but him o' th' trade,
(A man that served them in a double
Capacity, to teach and cobble)
Resolv'd to spare him; yet, to do
The Indian Hoghan Moghan too--
Impartial Justice, in his stead did

Hang an old weaver that was bed rid.

ANDREW MARVEL was one of the purest and most consistent of the patriots of the Commonwealth-he was not swayed by those motives of self-interest which in an unsettled period often determine a man's course, and lead him to purchase a doubtful popularity by advocating principles which he is ready to sacrifice at the first ascendancy of the

opposite party-but with genuine independence he maintained the same undisguised opinions amidst all the changes through which he lived. He is more celebrated for his prose compositions than his poems, which are not many, but have generally a freshness and freedom, a natural and manly tenderness, and breathe that spirit of liberty and piety for which their author was eminently distinguished. His Emigrant's Hymn is far above the common order of devotional verse, and shews the warmth and power of his zealous and unpretending mind.

Where the remote Bermudas ride
In the ocean's bosom, unespied,
From a small boat that row'd along,
The listening winds receiv'd their song.

"What should we do, but sing His praise
"That led us through the watery maze
"Unto an isle so long unknown,

"And yet far kinder than our own!

"Where He the huge sea monsters racks,

"That lift the deep upon their backs,

"He lands us on a grassy stage,

"Safe from the storms and prelates' rage.

"He gave us this eternal spring
"Which here enamels every thing,

"And sends the fowls to us, in care,
"On daily visits through the air.

"He hangs in shades the orange bright,
"Like golden lamps in a green night,
"And in these rocks for us did frame
"A temple where to sound his name.

"Oh! let our voice His praise exalt,
"Till it arrive at Heaven's vault,
"Which then perhaps, rebounding, may
"Echo beyond the Mexique bay."

Thus sang they, in the English boat,
A holy and a cheerful note,

And all the way, to guide their chime,

With falling oars they kept the time.

There was also Old ISAAK WALTON, the quaint angler and poet, who loved to rove by the blue waters, with his fishing rod and hook, and enlivened his patient amusement with reflections upon the beauties of nature, and songs springing from the buoyancy of a light and happy heart.

After the restoration the crowd of wits who had fluttered about the former court again appeared, and the king was hailed to his throne with the congratulations of poets and courtiers, each eager to outdo his fellows in the fervor of his compliment and exultation, and to lay the richest offering at the shrine of revived royalty—but it was far different with Milton; - poor, blind, disgraced, with nothing but his virtues to console, and his intrepid mind to support him, he was driven into concealment until the first flush of public excitement had subsided. The Government, content with the sacrifice of nobler victims, pursued him not with vigilance, but caused some of his political writings to be burned by the ignominious hands of the common hangman.

vigor or more relaxed

To a mind of less natural discipline than Milton's, his

successive family afflictions, the overthrow of his present ambitions, the insecurity of his person, his blindness, and his infirmities would have produced a despondency destructive to its best and noblest powers-but he remained firm and serene through all, triumphing in the integrity of his purpose, with a temper chastened, and a judgment matured by the mighty and conflicting scenes he had beheld, with an intellect accustomed to grapple with weighty arguments and grown unconquerable by the very process through which it had been nurtured. He had marked the stern and strong passions acting on a large scale; he had traced the soaring and ambitious mind through all the changes of labor, success, and ultimate defeat; he had seen the spirit rendered proud by victory, unnerved by reverses, or retaining its haughtiness even in misfortune he had known those great characters, which in times of trouble rise from the mass of mankind like superior intelligencies to direct and control the energies of those from whom but yesterday they sprang, and he had a clear insight into the motives and principles which actuated the heroes of the day-and all this he had contemplated with a philosophical purpose-popular Liberty had been his idol, and when it wanted a champion he was the first beneath its banners—yet he defended it not as a mere partisan, but from thorough and carefully formed conviction, and when once convinced, he was no cold advocate, but his heart and affections were engaged

*He has left us a noble picture of the tranquillity of his dignified mind in one of his fine sonnets to Cyriac Skinner.